


Taste, Smell, Touch

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Early Mornings, Longing, M/M, Tea, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony loves watching Bruce make tea.</p><p>For this prompt at comment-fic on lj: "The tea seller, like the perfumer or the chocolatier, is a magician of the senses."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste, Smell, Touch

Tony loved watching Bruce make tea.

It happened early in the morning, when it was only the two of them in the kitchen, Bruce having gotten up early, Tony having stayed up late.

It was a long process, and one that Bruce did the same way every time, a perfect balancing act between a scientific experiment and a ritual. Tony couldn’t look away.

The careful measuring, the gentle jostle as the leaves fell into the teapot -- always a clear glass pot, so Bruce could watch the tea steep. 

The whistle of the kettle, shrill, vibrant. 

Then the wait. Bruce would never pour boiling water into the teapot; he always waited a few minutes, the calm quiet of a clock ticking high on the kitchen wall.

Bruce walked halfway across town every Saturday to pick up his supply of his favorite blend. Part green tea from a particular mountain in a southern province in China, part black tea from Sri Lanka, a few chrysanthemum leaves, and mild hints of cardamom and ginger. (Bruce had offered to take Tony to the tea shop a few times, but Tony always declined; he imagined it as some kind of colorful bazaar, where Bruce spoke with merchants in six languages, wandering about, passing one booth selling spices from rough tan sacks, the next peddling vials of perfumes or poisons. Tony really didn’t need to have the fantasy ruined by seeing some well-lit hipster shop full of stacked plastic containers of tea and health foods.)

Bruce usually leaned back against the table as he waited for the water, right next to where Tony was sitting at the table. Tony would be drinking – of course – a cup of coffee, prepared efficiently by a JARVIS-controlled coffee machine. Bruce, however, never wanted JARVIS to make tea for him. 

When the water was right – hot enough to emit willowy steam but not burn the lips – Bruce would pour the water over the tea leaves. 

They would watch, then. The tea leaves, whole, would bloom in the heat, unfolding and swelling into broad curves of green and black, like fingers spreading wide, waiting. 

Bruce would sit at the table then, next to Tony, and wait until the tea was ready to be poured. The scent of the leaves would pedal about the room, and Tony would put his coffee down so he could inhale the soft fragrance, the mellowed notes of floral and spice.

Bruce would pour the liquid into the cup then, never using a strainer – he didn’t care if leaves ended up in his cup. He would hold the cup for a moment, then, both his hands wrapped around the cup, and Tony would imagine the warmth of it as he stared at Bruce’s fingers. 

Bruce would lean down then and inhale the scent of the tea, closing his eyes, curling his upper body low, close to the cup. Tony would watch as his nostrils flared at the aroma, as the steam left just a thin sheen of sweat on Bruce’s face.

Bruce would bring the cup to his lips then, sipping slow, deep, and then he would smile, staring down at the cup like he didn’t need anything else in the world but a good cup of tea.

Sometimes, Bruce would ask Tony, “Are you sure you don’t want to try some?”

Tony would always hesitate, then answer “No. There’s no way it’ll taste as good as I imagine. And what’s the point in chasing disappointment?”

Bruce would always look at him, like he thought the answer was strange, but then return to his tea.


End file.
